


Magpie Behind the Glass

by pockeii



Series: Moja Sroka [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Disturbing Themes, Goro can't get a break, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentioned violence, Rescue Mission, some Polish dialogue - translations are now provided at the bottom of each chapter, takes place after the engine room scene, thank you Enti and FeralPrince for helping me with the Polish dialogue!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockeii/pseuds/pockeii
Summary: "It was so nice, not to feel. It was a similar feeling of collapsing onto bed after an exhausting work day and slipping into a dream; it was a feeling of weightlessness, like the world fell off his shoulders and he was free of all the choices that plagued his everyday life. It wasn’t Heaven, he’d be shocked if it were. It was just... comforting nothingness.For a little while, at least."---In which Akechi finds he is very much not dead, but a complacent test subject under heavy anesthetics. His connection to the Velvet Room helps him escape, only for him to fall into an even worse hell.Little does he know, the Phantom Thieves are on the run looking for him.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Moja Sroka [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737277
Comments: 29
Kudos: 102





	Magpie Behind the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a thing I came up with before Scramble came out, when I was trying to insert Akechi's return into the plot. Been thinking about it for a while so I thought I'd just put it into fic form already!
> 
> This features an original antagonist, if you don't like original characters please give her a chance because I'm really proud of her! If any Polish readers would help me out with her dialogue I would really appreciate it!!
> 
> UPDATE 5/11: Hi all!! Thanks so much to Enti and FeralPrince56 for helping me with my character's Polish! We had quite a laugh about some of the original ones, that's all I'm gonna say... Some dialogue was nuked for good reason. You'll find a link to the Google doc with the translations at the end of the chapter!

_“Mona, is there any way we can get this open?!”_

Those are the last words he remembers hearing since the watertight bulkhead slammed shut behind him.

It only hurt for a moment; the bullet that lodged itself directly in his chest. He felt every inch of muscle it tore through, the blood that poured out and stained his dark suit. He felt something rush up his throat before his eyes met the ground and he stopped feeling altogether. And it was so nice, not to feel. It was a similar feeling of collapsing onto bed after an exhausting work day and slipping into a dream; it was a feeling of weightlessness, like the world fell off his shoulders and he was free of all the choices that plagued his everyday life. It wasn’t Heaven, he’d be shocked if it were. It was just... comforting nothingness.

For a little while, at least.

He doesn’t remember how it started. It was gradual, something he hardly noticed was happening until he really stopped to think about it, not that he could muster the energy to do much free thinking. It was as if someone placed a window in front of him during a sunrise, forcing him to stare as the sun slowly rose into view and burned at his retinas. Eventually he noticed that he was finally able to feel his body, although he had no control over it; focusing on moving any of his limbs left a dull ache in his head that forced him to fall back into the dream state for a short while. 

Somewhere in his mind, distantly, he knows he is alive. Perhaps he was dead for a moment, but he no longer is. His body feels like he has one foot in the grave and one in reality, but reality can only be seen through foggy lenses, and voices are just muffled sounds that echo throughout his hollow skull. 

It’s still nice, in a way. In the dream state-- when he’s “sleeping”, perhaps-- he doesn’t actually dream. When he’s “awake”, it feels much more like he’s being shown a dream, however incomprehensible everything around him is. He knows it shouldn’t be nice. Not being the one in control has always been one of his greatest fears, yet something in his bloodstream is convincing him that everything is okay when he’s “awake”. When he falls back into the dream state, where he can no longer see the outside world, surrounded by blue walls and hanging chains, he’s able to think a little clearer. 

Sometimes he’ll feel slight pricks when he’s “awake”. Sometimes in his arms, sometimes in his fingers. But the pain washes away just as quickly as it came, just like the bullet on the ship. 

Time doesn’t really mean anything anymore, so he no longer wonders how long it’s been since he was shot. He’s blissfully unaware of any time that passes whether he can hear voices around him or not. It’s hard to care about anything, really. If he didn’t have one foot planted in the afterlife, he’s sure he would be more determined to wake the hell up, find out what’s happening to him and get some semblance of control back. But in this state, why bother? He’s comfortable where he is, in this constant state of rest. No difficult choices to make. 

That is, until he starts hearing a voice in his dreams. He never hears anything from the outside world in the dream state. There’s something... there’s someone here with him.

_ “Oh, poor bird. What has that horrible God done to you?” _

A layer of fog peels away. He can hear the words of the girl clearly. They’re the first words he’s been able to make out in so long, and it scares him a little. It scares him more when she continues, her words clear as day to him.

_“You must wake up._ _You m_ _ust fight it. This cannot go on...”_

The dream state ends after that, as he feels another prick to his finger. The pain washes away again, but he’s “awake” now. The voice is gone and replaced with the muffled sounds of conversation he has no energy to understand. And he finds it extremely difficult to care, now that he’s “awake”, about what he thought he just heard, or about the blue light that reached out for him through the bars of his cell. 

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One day-- though whether or not it’s daytime he doesn’t know-- he feels a hand on his wrist, and suddenly his body kicks into overdrive.

The commands that shoot through his nervous system actually get received, and before he knows it he’s upright. Things are clearer, he can see _details._ Most of the space around him is white and slick, illuminated by bright ceiling lights that reflect off the ground. He feels the thin blanket’s weight on his legs, feels it slip from his torso and pool at his hips as he shoots upwards and pushes away the shadowy figure that dared to touch him. It’s adrenaline alone that lets him succeed in pushing the offender off of his bed and onto the ground. 

There’s a hummingbird in his heart, beating at a mile per minute, as he tries to catch his breath. He needs to go, he needs to get the _fuck_ out of here, he needs to _run--_

He grips the edges of the bed-- white plastic railings-- and attempts to launch himself forward, but his hips stay firm against the mattress and the force only causes him to double back and hit his head on the pillow again. There’s something tight keeping his lower half strapped to the bed. He flicks the covers away to find he’s strapped down. There’s a buckle on his left. He dives for it, but his fingers fumble uselessly trying to undo the latch. 

“ _Shit,_ what did you _do?!”_

His heart rate spikes when he hears someone enter the room, yelling words he can actually understand, something he hasn’t been able to do since he heard that girl’s voice in the dream. He hurries to undo the latch and actually manages to slip part of the strap out, loosening it enough for him to squirm his legs out from under the restraint, but it’s not long before he’s practically tackled back onto the bed.

 _You have to fight it,_ that’s what the girl in the dream had said. Those words echo through his now clear mind as he struggles, kicking and scratching at anything he can reach, screaming to be let go, to _get the fuck away!_ He fights and fights until he feels something metal click onto his wrists, and he’s no longer able to move his arm. Refusing to give up, he fights against the grip that tries to bring his other wrist down to the bed rail. Something feral takes over, and suddenly he’s lurching forward to bite the hand that’s trying to restrain him, allowing him a moment to swing his fist at another person trying to hold him down. He’s momentarily distracted by the pain in his fist from socking someone clean in the face, and before he knows it he’s grabbed again and successfully locked to the rail.

His arms may be out of commission, but he still has his legs, and they don’t stop kicking, even as the crowd of people begin to disperse. Soon he’s just kicking for the hell of it, squirming in place and shouting merciless threats at whoever will listen. He’s entirely ignored. There’s some more chatter off to the side, commands being dished out and followed, and suddenly he feels something powerful surge through his body, suppressing his adrenaline rush and once again stealing away his sense of control. After a few more weak kicks to the air, his bare feet thump against the mattress, and his legs fall still.

Losing control of his body again... it suddenly doesn’t matter much to him. The comforting fog rolls back in steadily, numbing not only his body but his mind. Soon he doesn’t care to keep struggling. It doesn’t really matter anyway...

_ Don’t give up, you idiot! _

...much _simpler..._

_ You need to escape, you need to find him!_

_So much easier..._

As his head comes down to rest on something soft-- the pillow that he’s slowly forgetting is really there-- he’s able to muster enough energy to continue distinguishing words from the voices in the room. His mind floats away slowly, but he catches that single conversation.

“Do you have any idea how expensive it’s getting to keep him under like this?”

“We almost have everything we need. Once he’s outlived his usefulness, we can just get rid of him.”

“Yeah, but we’re still pretty far off, and we’re running out of funding to keep this up! If we run out of money, they’re gonna hand everything over to that crazy European chick from the grant meeting.”

“As long as we have friends in high places, she won’t get her hands on this research. Trust me. She’ll have to tear it away from us.”

“I don’t think that’s beyond what she’s willing to do.”

He doesn’t have anymore time to worry about what the conversation is about as he feels the weight of sleep wash over him. The voices float off into the distance...

“ _Did you see the look in her eyes? She might actually be a psychopath or something...”_

_ “She’s the size as my twelve-year-old daughter, you're paranoid. Just make sure he doesn't get up again so we can take those cuffs off and do another scan." _

_“He should be lucky he's stuck with us and not with her._

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The next time he falls into the dream state, things are different.

He can move his body. It feels strange, having full control of his limbs with no notice. He ends standing too quickly, nearly stumbling into the wall, catching himself on a loose chain hanging from the ceiling. Even catching that proves to be difficult, but he succeeds.

It’s the first time he’s seen the blue room so clearly. When he turns his head, he’s faced with metal bars, locking him up in a tiny cell with nothing but a bench and a toilet. He tries to stand up again, but gives up quickly, turning around to let his back fall against the wall as he slides down to the ground. He wraps his arms around his legs, squeezes his eyes shut, tries to force himself to wake up. Though, to be honest, he’s not sure he actually wants to wake up, either. 

“It seems you’ve finally awoken. Welcome to the Velvet Room, Akechi Goro.”

He jumps slightly and lifts his head toward the cell door. Standing on the other side is a petite blonde girl with bright yellow eyes, ones that immediately remind him of the shadows in the metaverse. He backs up cautiously, but she doesn’t make a move.

They stare at each other for a moment. Is she expecting him to say something? If she is, well, what would he even say? Why should he bother talking to this thing that’s clearly imprisoned him?

As if able to read his thoughts, the girl’s expression falls. “I apologize. I am not the one who brought you here. You came here of your own accord.”

Goro’s eyebrows furrow at her. For the first time in what feels like years, he finds his voice. “How did I...?” 

“You were looking for help.”

He wraps his arms tighter around his legs. It isn’t until now that he notices his clothes have been replaced with tattered rags of black and white stripes. He shoots a glare at the girl. “Yeah, locking me up really helps me out.” Sarcasm feels so at home on his tongue, even after all this time.

“This is not your prison,” the girl says simply. “Your true prison is in the real world. However, it’s been assured that you cannot fight back. You kept coming to the Velvet Room, but you simply laid in your cell and never moved. This is the first time I’ve been able to speak with you directly.”

A memory comes crashing back into his head, one that feels like it happened so long ago. Those voices he heard...

_“Do you have any idea how expensive it’s getting to keep him under like this?”_

_“We almost have everything we need. Once he’s outlived his usefulness, we can just get rid of him.”_

Dammit... _Dammit!_ It must be those scientists who worked under Shido, the ones who continued on Isshiki’s research after her death. He knew bringing down Shido could never topple the whole conspiracy. He doesn’t remember anything after being shot in the engine room, but considering his circumstances, it’s likely his body ended up somewhere on the premises of the Diet Building, making it easy for Shido’s associates to find him lying there defenseless. 

If he really did end up outside of the palace somehow, it must have collapsed, meaning...

He sighs in relief. At least the Thieves kept their promise. 

Another memory comes back to him, rushing up and hitting him like a ten ton truck. He lunges towards the girl and grabs the bars. _“Ren!”_ he gasps, “Fuck, I need... I need to find him...” He takes a moment to scan the outside of his cell, as if the person he’s looking for is somewhere out there. “I can... I can talk to him here, right? I feel like... I’ve seen him here...”

No, he hasn’t seen Ren here. He’s _heard_ his voice here. Long, long ago, sometime after he was shot, but long before he regained any semblance of consciousness... He remembers the blur of the blue room, and Ren’s voice somewhere in the distance, speaking to this girl and another mysterious voice.

The girl’s face seems to light up a bit, although she does not smile. She gets down on her knees, coming down to his level. “I will contact the Trickster for you. But it may take some time.”

Goro’s forehead meets the bars. “Please..." He can stand to wait a little longer. Just a little...

"For now..." she places a hand over his on the bar. It startles him a bit, but he doesn't move away. "We cannot waste anymore time. Something is coming. I can heal your body for you, but only temporarily. You mustn't wait."

"Wha... what are you talking about?"

Her expression falls to something grim. Nonetheless, she looks down at their joined hands, then closes her eyes. Goro's body flinches hard as a surge of energy shoots through her grasp and up his arm. It's too much for his brain to take, and black spots quickly dot his vision as his head begins to drift. Her last words to him are a distant echo. 

_“You must run._ _Run_ _as fast a as far as you can...” _

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He’s awoken once again-- _really_ awoken, with full feeling and control of his body and mind-- by the echoes of gunfire.

The room is dark, but he knows where he is. It’s the same place he was restrained the last time he woke up. There’s no windows, just a bit of light pouring out of the hallway under the door. It’s enough for him to see the rails of the bed. He tries to sit up, but the belt is back in place. He quickly undoes it and hoists himself over the rail. 

It takes less than a second for his legs to give out under him. He tries to grab at a bit of light reflecting off a piece of metal, but his body hits the ground anyway. The metal pole he grabbed lands directly on top of him, and he feels something wet spread across the floor. That, and the tug on the skin of his forearm as he fell, tells him all he needs to know about what he just tore down. It’s whatever drugs those bastards were giving him to keep him under. He feels for the IV in his arm and carefully removes it. 

Attempting to stand again without support proves useless, his legs are too weak to hold his weight. He opts for creating his own portable walker out of the IV pole, discarding the drenched bag and doing his best to set the wheels down properly. He pulls himself into a standing position, then leans his whole weight down on the pole, being careful not to tip it over as he starts moving forward. 

He stumbles over to the door and tries the handle. Locked, of course. He reaches to turn on a light, immediately regretting the horrible pain to his retinas, and quickly shuts them off again. As he’s rubbing the pain away, his body freezes up. There’s footsteps, rapid ones, coming closer to the room. At least five sets of them, accompanied by another piercing gunshot and a scream.

He rushes away from the door, over to where he can see the faint outline of a long table. He feels around for a moment, hoping to find a handle to a cupboard of some sort, and sighs in relief when he’s able to slide open a small door. Feeling inside, it’s clearly full of stuff, but there are no shelves,and it feels like there may be enough room for him to fit. 

Shoving the IV pole across the room so as to not direct any attention to his location, he pushes as much junk as he can to the side and crawls inside the cupboard. It's a tight fit from top to bottom, but luckily there doesn't seem to be any partitions to divide the cupboards on the inside, so he's able to lay mostly flat, despite all the kits and boxes that he's practically lying on top of. 

He shuts the cupboard and sucks in a breath just as something slams into the door.

Someone's trying to kick it down. 

Goro waits in terrified silence, refusing to let himself flinch at each _bang_ against the door. He doesn't like how familiar this feeling is, how similar it is to certain nights in foster care. Him cowering in a closet while a drunken adult screams at him to open the door. _Fuck_ , of all the times to trigger his stupid PTSD...

Eventually the banging stops, and he lets himself breathe, until a beep and a tiny click have him tensing up again. His hand flies over his mouth as he hears the door open, careful to muffle the sound of his nervous pants.

The light comes on. He waits, keeping his hand placed firmly over his nose and mouth, and just listens. It's quiet, save for the sound of scattering footsteps, searching the room in silence. He can feel the vibrations of some of those steps as they near his hiding place.

_They're going to find me they're going to find me they're going to kill me they're going to--_

"We're clear. Let's head back to the East wing."

Just like that, the footsteps trickle out of the room. The lights flick off. He doesn't hear the door shut.

For a while, he lies there and listens, worried that one of them might have stayed behind, waiting for him to come out. But he hears nothing close by. Just the continued sound of distant yelling and some rapid gunfire here and there. Even if there's no one here now, if he leaves, where would he go? He has no idea where he is, or who any of these people are. They're clearly not with Shido's associates, if they're gunning down the building. Were they... here to rescue him? Surely not. They were far too violent to be working for the police. 

Is this some kind of cleanup job? Some kind of attempt to keep something secret? Or maybe... they came to take something... If they find him, they'll definitely kill him. If he tries to leave he could run into them. There might not be anywhere to hide in the halls of whatever building this is. Maybe... maybe they won't come back. If he just stays here, doesn't make any noise, eventually, they'll all just...

_You must run. Run as fast and far as you can._

The girl from the blue room enters his thoughts again. That's right. The only reason he was able to heal so quickly and hide was because of the energy she gave him... and if what she said was true, his newfound energy won't last him forever. It's only a matter of time before his body surrenders to whatever those bastards pumped into his system, and he falls back into subspace, completely unable to think or care about anything.

That would surely end him, if he passed out in this cupboard and starved or dehydrated to death. He has to get the hell out of here.

As he reaches for the cupboard door, his blood freezes. 

_Click..._ _click..._ _click... click..._ _click..._

Another set of footsteps fades in from the hallway. They're distinct from the previous footsteps he heard. They're slow, deliberate, as if each _click_ against the tiles floor is meticulously calculated to announce their presence. The shoes are certainly that of a woman's, if the clacks of thin heels are anything to go by. The first person that flashes across Goro's mind is Niijima Sae. If she _were_ here, that would be nothing short of a miracle. But there's no way he could ever be that lucky.

Light cracks into the cupboard again. Goro brings his hand back to his mouth.

The footsteps stop directly at the entrance to the room, and for a while there’s nothing. Then it starts up again. Step by step, they saunter across the floor at a deliberately slow pace, stopping at the other side of the room. There’s a long pause in movement from there. Goro’s heart pounds against the floor of the metal cupboard. It feels like every beat makes the table vibrate.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when a feminine voice starts to hum.

It’s a playful tune, unfamiliar but certainly not something made up on the spot. What’s striking is how youthful the voice sounds, but--

““Wiem, że gdzieś się tutaj chowasz.”

Her honeyed words almost make him jump. He instinctively closes his eyes. He can’t understand what she’s saying, but it feels directed at him somehow. He tenses, pressing his fingers into the floor to steady his shaking.

There’s something wrong with her tone. It’s wistful and innocent, yet something lies beyond the surface, something that crawls up his spine and leaves an unsettling amount of bile in his throat. 

It's just a girl. _It's just a girl._ A very young sounding _girl._

Why is he so afraid?

It would be easy to pin the blame on his PTSD. The fear of being caught by one of his caretakers while they're in a bad mood has always haunted him, he has physical scars that will never heal from those days. Being in this vulnerable position again, even after all these years of being free of that wretched system... Hiding in this tiny space, he's just a sad, pathetic orphan boy once again, trying to protect himself from an awful and cruel world that hated him.

It really would be easy to just say it was PTSD, but there's something more, a feeling he can't place due to the drugs that still cloud his mind to some degree. 

_Stop shaking! It's just some fucking girl!_

Despite trying to reason his nerves away, every clack of the heel spikes his pulse. It’s so much worse than the patter of heavy footsteps that broke into the room before. They feel so close, pounding into his ears, even though his brain knows how far this girl really is from him. 

“Dlaczego nie odzywasz się, gdy ja cię szukam?” Goro buries his head between his arms as he hears the squeak of the IV pole being moved across the floor. When he was a kid, he would use this strategy to convince himself he was invisible, that covering his eyes would make the monsters unable to see him. “Słyszysz mnie? Nie bój się, jestem dobrą dziewczynką...”

His ears follow the clicks around the room as she continues to step at a leisurely pace. Closer, then farther, closer, farther... back and forth... Is she pacing? Or is she stalling--

He almost jumps when he hears a _pitter pitter_ of nails tapping against the metal above his head. His thoughts were so loud he forgot to listen to how close the footsteps had gotten to his hiding place. The taps above him click back and forth between two tones, fast paced at first but carefully slowing down, like a dying tune on a piano. 

“Bawimy się?” A single nail scrapes lightly across the metal top. A small giggle follows. “A więc to tak... pobawimy się więc w chowanego.”

Back across the room the heels click, but the intensity of Goro’s heartbeat doesn’t let up. The patter of nails still feels like its rippling throughout the metal of the cabinet, creeping up his bones. Something heavy on wheels squeaks in the distance. ““Zaglądam pod łóżko...A, nikogo tam nie ma”” 

That’s when she stops humming, and it’s far too quick all of a sudden. Her footsteps are much louder, echoing through his head as they get closer again.

_ Click... click... click... _

“...Słyszę twój niespokojny oddech”

 _...Click..._ _click..._

“Szybkie bicie twego serca...”

 _ Click..._ _click...._ _click-clack._

“Chciałabym przyjrzeć się tobie _z bliska..._ " 

“Doktor, we’re ready to move forward.”

It’s a man’s voice, coming from the door. He’s speaking English, a language Goro understands perfectly well, or would if not for the pounding in his head left over by the echo of the heels. He feels a presence outside his hiding place, looming over him, intense as if whoever it is can see him right through the metal. He waits as there’s a beat of silence. Finally, _finally_ , the offending footsteps begin to walk away.

They’re much more brisk now. 

The girl speaks again as she departs. Her voice still sounds young and silvery, but her tone is flat, almost stern. Her accent punctures her words. “Tell the others to keep moving. I need your help with something.” The footsteps continue to the door before stopping for a brief moment. 

_“Wygląda na to, że zbliża się koniec naszej gry.”_

Finally, they leave. This time the light is left on.

At this point, Goro isn’t sure he can climb out of the cupboard. He can already feel his body failing him, slowly succumbing back to the drugs lingering in his system. Whoever that girl was, her presence would not have been nearly as disturbing if he were at full power. Hell, he’s more than willing to mow down a little girl if it means getting out of this place. But there was some intent in her voice he can’t shake off, something very wrong, and in this state he’s terrified of the possibility of being found by _anyone,_ let alone someone... like _that._

There hasn’t been any activity in the hall for a good minute or so. Goro knows it won’t last long; if what the man said is true and they are all moving to the East wing, wherever that is in this hellhole of a facility, they're sure to circle back sooner or later. As much as he hates to think about trying to leave, he can’t stay here. 

It takes some effort to gather up his energy again. He tries to make as little noise as possible as he opens the metal door and starts dragging himself out with only his arms, as if his legs are completely useless. He finds feeling in them again when his whole body is on the tiled floor. Finally, he’s able to pull himself into a standing position. His legs continue to wobble underneath him, shaking his confidence. He needs something to steady himself as he moves, and the IV pole makes too much noise against the floor.

With the lights on, he finally gets a good look at the room. There are multiple larger cabinets in the walls, all of them left open, which he’s fairly certain was not the case before he started hiding. The bed is crooked now and pushed farther from the wall, revealing something behind it. It’s folded up flat, but the big wheels give away what it is, and Goro feels like the luckiest bastard in the world.

A wheelchair isn’t exactly the ideal tool for a stealth operation, but he doesn’t have any other choice unless he plans to inchworm across the whole facility. Once again he’s forced to drag himself across the room until his hands are grasping the handles of the chair, struggling to get the thing open until he realizes there’s a lever at the base. He presses down on it weakly and it pops open, almost knocking him over, but he saves himself the embarrassment and sits himself down. 

The first thing he sees when he rolls out into the blinding white hallway is the splashes of red that stain the walls. Fresh blood, still dripping down the plaster to meet the bodies slumped down beside them.

He thinks of the bullet he put in Ren’s skull and the blood that pooled around his head as it smashed limp against the table. 

_Fuck,_ he needs to get out of here...

Carefully rolling around the pools of blood so as not to make tracks, Goro makes his way down the hall, away from some active sounds coming from behind him. They sound distant and don’t seem to be coming closer, but it’s best for him to head in the opposite direction anyway, he figures. The words on the signs are a little too blurry for him to read, but he recognizes the picture of stairs on one of them. Well, that won’t help. There’s no way he’ll be able to drag himself up a flight of stairs without running out of energy, let alone take the chair with him. Instead he examines the signs again for any indication of an elevator, and eventually is able to make one out. He turns the corner cautiously to find the corridor empty and continues forward. 

The elevator isn’t far, so he doesn’t need to dodge blood for much longer. There’s only one button that points upward, so he pushes it and sighs in relief as the number starts to tick down. He has yet to see a single window in this place, so chances are they’re underground. Figures.

He waits. And waits. And _waits_... but the doors don’t open. He almost growls, pushing at the button a few more times in frustration. It takes a few more clicks of the button before a red message appears above the elevator where the numbers are displayed. 

**キーカードを入れて下さい  
** **PLEASE INSERT KEYCARD**

There’s a thin slit above the elevator button, likely a card reader. Of course, Akechi Goro never gets a break. Not that he didn’t expect there to be _some_ security measures in this kind of place... Well, luckily he’s surrounded by the dead bodies of the assholes who worked here.

How _lovely._

Rolling back to where he came from, he returns to a spot in the hall where two men lay on the ground with an array of bullets decorating their backs. There’s blood all over the floor, like a moat surrounding their bodies, and like hell Goro’s going to let himself get tracked by dragging the wheels through the blood, so he slips out of the seat and gets down on his hands and knees and crawls 

The strong scent of iron stings his nose and makes him want to vomit, but he has bigger problems to deal with.

The first man has nothing on him, not even a wallet or a phone. He has a plastic ID case hanging from his coat, but it carries no ID. A sense of dread washes over Goro. They must have looted the bodies already... No no _no,_ there has to be _someone_ who still has a card on them. He scrambles over to the other body and sifts through every pocket he can find, but there’s still nothing. 

No, he _can’t_ give up yet... One of these guys must have been skipped over, _somebody_ here has to have a keycard. He’d just have to search all the bodies he can find, and quickly, before they come back--

“Tutaj jesteś moja mała sroczka.”

Goro's breath catches in his throat, nearly choking him.

At the end of the hall, not twenty feet away from where he sits in the pool of blood, is an unfamiliar girl standing proud with two armed men at her sides. Her wine red eyes light up when they meet for the first time.

Goro isn’t sure what he was expecting when he first heard this girl’s voice. He expected someone... taller, perhaps. She only seems to stand about five feet tall, the regular-sized men dwarf her in comparison, and she has those black heels with straps that wrap around her feet inflating her height. Her golden blonde hair reaches far past her chest. The top layer of her hair is clumped up at the top of her head, vaguely resembling a bun. Her face is thin, fairly adult-like, pale white save for a small beauty mark on her cheek. Still, somehow her presence is more terrifying, with the way she’s looking at him like she just found a brand new toy.

The lab coat and lanyard she’s wearing also takes him by surprise. Unless she’s some sort of cosplayer, she must be a researcher of some sort, otherwise why would she be dressed like that? She’s not from this facility, is she? How would that make sense...?

His thoughts shatter as she steps forward, the familiar _click_ of her heels sending him tumbling backwards. How did he not hear her coming? He must have been panicking too much, or maybe his hearing is starting to go and he doesn’t have much time left before he--

“Och, już cię lubię,” her feminine, snake-like voice punctures her footsteps. _Click click click, _ “Czy chciałbyś się ze mną pobawić?” _ Click click click... _

Goro’s head is already starting to feel light. He really doesn’t have much time left, and the last thing he wants to do is end up in _another_ stranger’s clutches for their twisted research... He scoots back again, trying to figure out how to escape. The wheelchair would be too slow, he would have to run--

“Proszę, nie bój się. Nie zrobię ci nic złego,” she puts a delicate-looking hand on her chest, as if making a promise. Whatever it’s about, he doesn’t fucking believe it for a second. Her smile only seems to widen the further he scoots away from her at every step. “Jestem dobrą dziewczynką. Obiecuję.”

“Idziesz ze mną, moja srozcko,” She steps into the puddle of blood, uncaring, her attention focused entirely on Goro as if she were beckoning a scared cat. There’s a point where her pace picks up, and Goro’s retreat can’t beat her. She’s standing in front of him now, and he's frozen. She bends her legs a bit to get closer to him, then reaches a hand toward him. Now that he’s up close, he can see she has acrylic nails that are painted light pink and decorated with small white jewels. Elegant on the surface, but strangely reminiscent of deadly claws. “Nie denerwuj się. Chcę ci tylko pomóc.”

Her face falls when Goro doesn’t make a move one way or the other. She tilts her head curiously. “Gramy jeszcze raz?” She looks like she expects an answer. None comes. She lets out a breathy chuckle and retracts her hand, curling in one finger at a time. "Dobrze więc zacznij uciekać."

Standing up straight with her hands innocently clasped behind her back, she peeks over her shoulder, nudging her head toward him. It's a signal to her goons. The two men start walking forward.

Panic and adrenaline shoot through his limbs, and as wobbly as his legs are, Goro somehow finds the strength to launch himself off the ground and start running. His legs barely feel like they exist but they still carry him at a speed he never thought possible. He slips so many times he’s sure to be covered in bruises, but each slip is followed by another burst of energy and determination as he pushes himself up again. He doesn’t look behind him, but he can hear the pursuing steps. It overloads his senses.

With no actual indication of where he’s going, he completely loses track of where he came from. The facility looks the same no matter where he turns, but up until now every door he’s passed has been shut. He skids to a stop when he notices an ajar door to a room concealed in darkness. One look down the hall tells him that his pursuers haven’t rounded the corner yet. Without thinking, he clambers inside and tries to shut the door behind him as quietly as possible.

For a moment, he just waits, holding the door handle tightly as he sinks back down to his knees. His body finally resting, the adrenaline quickly drains out of him, and he can feel himself slipping away again. If he gives them the slip, maybe he can just...

The door handle jiggles.

Goro’s breath catches in his throat as he backs away from the door, and that’s when he sees it.

He’s _trailing blood._

It seems the door locked itself as he entered the room, but surely they have keycards. Despite that, they haven’t entered yet. The door handle keeps moving, but it doesn’t open. Maybe those men aren’t the ones holding the cards? It’s only a matter of time before they get in somehow... That girl will catch up eventually, she’s certain to have one. He might have time to clean up some of the blood he just left behind and find a place to hide. It’s all he can do now, there’s no escape route, no vents or windows or _any_ way to get out. Even if he hides, there’s no way he can fool them into thinking he escaped somehow. They’d tear the room apart to find him.

But he might be able to defend himself, if he just had something...

Taking a look around, he realizes the room is a fairly big storage space. There are a few shelves stacked with rows of filing cabinets partitioning the room as well as desks with working computers lined up along the wall. The screens are the only thing lighting up the room.

There’s a body on the ground in here, too, lying next to one of the desks. Goro ignores it.

One of the desks has some bacterial wipes sitting conveniently on top. Careful not to let too much blood track on the floor, he crawls over and grabs it, hurriedly cleaning all the parts of himself that touch the floor. There’s a closet door at the other end of the room behind the rows of filing cabinets, he can see it now that he’s at the far wall. He starts crawling backwards, careful to leave no traces as he makes his way over to the closet. 

There’s a pair of scissors on a magnet attached to a cabinet. He snatches them.

_Beep, clink_

The sound of the door opening is unmistakable, so is the steady clicks of heels as the worst of them enters the room. _Her_. Already hidden behind the partitions, Goro slips inside the closet and pushes himself into the dark corner. The door has angled down metal shutters, meaning Goro can see what’s outside, but no one can easily see in. 

He hears the door close softly. Strangely, the lights never come on. 

The weapon feels heavy in his fist as he clamps down harder, angling himself to attack anyone who dares open the door. He’ll be ready, he can see them coming, he can still fight back--

He holds his breath and listens to the clicks again, just like before. They echo throughout the room, trembling the ground. She’s the only one here. She came in alone.

_Cocky bitch._

_...Click ...click_

“Ale zabawa, co nie?” 

_...Click ...click _

“...Mam wrażenie, że stajemy się wspaniałymi przyjaciółmi"

 _ ...Click _ _...click _

Her footsteps move over to the other wall. She seems to be going back and forth across the room, an inch closer every time.

“...Cieszę się”

 _ Click... _ _ click _

“...Możemy pójść razem, gdzie tylko chcemy”

As her voice draws closer, Goro starts to notice the light dimming slightly. He listens a little closer. Every time she reaches one end of the wall, he can hear her press something, and the lights suddenly get dimmer. 

She’s taking away the sources of light. 

“?Bez wyzwania, to nie zabawy, nie” 

Goro focuses on quieting his breath. It’s an invitation to fight back, submerging them both in darkness so neither of them have an advantage. Goro may be weak now, but he can easily move across the room without making a sound, while this girl’s heels and constant blabbering give her position away. If he can get the jump on her, he can wait until the other two come in to find her and slip past them. If worse comes to worst, he could use her to threaten them, force them to give up the elevator key card...

The last light, the one closest to his position, finally dies. It’s pitch black.

__“Nie zostało dużo czasu.”

She’s so close he can feel the vibration of her footsteps against the ground. But it’s not long before they start pacing in the other direction. 

With his fingers clenched tightly around the blade of the scissors, he waits until the footsteps are just far enough before toeing at the closet door. It doesn’t make a sound as it opens, much to his relief. At this point, he’s struggling to keep his wits about him. His head spins. But he doesn’t have a _choice._ He slides himself out of the closet, careful not to make the slightest of sounds. Slowly he makes his way over to where he remembers one of the partitions is as he listens for her position.

Her heels seem to stop somewhere near the door. She makes a displeased sound.

__“Ugh. Ten wciąż żyje.”

__

_ “Please... help me...” _

It’s a man’s voice, speaking Japanese. Was that body at the desk still alive? A hard kick and a loud groan of pain confirm Goro’s suspicions. 

__“Ale nuda...”

She doesn’t linger for long, completely ignoring the man’s sputtering and violent coughing. She seems to be walking away from Goro again. He needs to catch up with her.

Feeling in front of him so as not to bump into anything, he sneaks toward her footsteps until he can hear them getting closer to his position. He puts one hand out and gets his scissors ready in the other, ready to grab whatever approaches him and just _stab._ If he can injure her, he can overpower her, even in this state.

He waits until she’s _right there--_

and lunges.

A blinding light and a solid kick to the stomach send him doubling back.

He lands hard on his shoulder, resulting in the worst pain he’s felt since waking up in this nightmare. The light forces him to shield his eyes. It’s still trained on him as the girl approaches his pathetic form.

“Przepraszam. Oszukiwałam.”

Goro jumps at the sound of a deep groan next to his ear. He peeks beyond his fingers to see the dying man lying face-up directly next to him, blood trickling from his lip. He starts coughing again, more blood pooling out of his mouth and splashing over his face. A drop of it hits Goro’s cheek.

“Nie ma stąd ucieczki.”

It’s the last pointed thing she says before a black heel slams down and buries itself halfway into the man’s skull. Even more blood splatters onto Goro. The smell invades his senses, sending his head spinning. His eyes sting from the light. His other senses burn from the smell. It’s _too much._

A giggle floats above him as the light gets closer to his face. He clenches his eyes shut, turning his face away. _It’s too much, it’s too much, it’s too--_

“Gra skończona, tak na dobre. Ja wygrałam.”

Before he can even think to respond-- before he can even _think--_ something cold and hard collides with his skull. A deafening _crack_ in his skull is the last thing he hears.

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Right back to the beginning. All of it was for nothing.

This time, he can recognize his surroundings, thanks to his previous encounter with the girl in the blue dress. His mind works, but his body doesn’t. He’s back to being nothing but a vegetable, even in a world separated from reality. He has the willpower to _desire_ freedom, to want to move and feel and speak, but it’s worthless. It doesn’t make his surroundings any more clear, or his body any more responsive to him.

He waits for the voice of the girl who met him before in the blue room, but it never comes. It’s deathly quiet. All he can do is stare up at the ceiling and think. He finds himself travelling down memory lane for a while. His mind flows from good to bad memories, neither of which really elicit an emotional response from him. They’re just movies that play in his head as he lies in his cell. There are memories where he’s walking back from school, briefcase in hand, politely ignoring the giggling schoolgirls from his class who dare each other to go talk to him before it’s too late. There are ones where he’s leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, steadying his breathing, as he tries to forget all the blood he knows he just spilled on the street. 

There’s one specific memory that comes out of seemingly nowhere, but once it comes up, Goro feels like he’s there. In Leblanc, sitting over a steaming cup of coffee, sitting next to _him_ in one of the booths. Talking with him _._ Taking a sip of his drink and trying-- failing-- to hide the flush of his cheeks as the figure scoots closer to him.

 _“What is it that you’re looking for? What could you possibly gain from getting closer to me...”_ Goro’s own confused voice echoes through the memory. _“You have plenty of friends who adore you. You surely don’t need my companionship.”_

 _“Maybe I just like you. Is that really so hard to believe?”_ A hand ghosts over his back, as if waiting for permission to touch him. Goro turns his face away. The hand retracts itself, much to his dismay.

_“I... Even if that’s true, you’re wasting your time.”_

It’s just a movie playing in his head, but he can feel the warmth of the overhead light, the bitter smell of his favorite blend filling his senses. It helps mask the lingering scent of blood.

_“Goro?”_

It’s odd, how vivid the scent has become. It’s accompanied by the warmth of a familiar voice sending tingles down his back. But this is just a movie... a movie playing in his head. An illusion. A distant memory.

_“Goro!”_

_“Well, it’s my time to waste. I’ll spend it however I want,” the comment is accompanied by a playful smirk, one that Goro can only roll his eyes at. “And I do like being around you.”_

_”Lavenza, can’t you open this?!”_

_“I should really be going, thank you for--”_

_“I’m sorry, I cannot, He could not get away in time.”_

_“Wait!”_

_“Get away? From what?”_

It hurts, in a way, how real this scene feels. His chest aches. He doesn’t want to see it anymore, doesn’t want to hear that voice echoing in his head unfamiliar words. 

_“Please let go of me, Amamiya. After we steal Niijima’s heart tomorrow, I don’t plan on coming back to this place.”_

_Ren’s expression of disappointment pierces his heart in a way he doesn’t expect._

_“Akechi Goro is in grave danger, my Trickster. Just as your body sleeps in the real world, so does his, somewhere in reality. Releasing him from this cell will do nothing.”_

_“Dammit...”_

Tears prick at the ends of Goro’s eyes. It really does hurt...

_“Goro... If you can hear me, I’ll be back for you. I’ll find you. I promise.”_

_“I’m not giving up on you.”_

_“Please, do.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POLISH TO ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS:  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QwNEE-gv0PZjE5ElYv9rEdxZ2FRfTx2_G9pakjMDySQ/edit?usp=sharing

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading so far! <3
> 
> Please leave a comment as it really helps me get motivation to write!


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